


Obvious

by incapricious



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Community: sherlockbbc_fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 05:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incapricious/pseuds/incapricious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Sherlock's texts to John are important, and sometimes they're ridiculous.  This time, it's a photo of a penis. John's not sure which category that falls into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> A quick fill for the sherlockbbc_fic prompt: "Sherlock likes to text, right? So my mind can't help but go to this: Sherlock sends John a picture of himself naked (or just his cock). John is not expecting it, and yes, he is the intended recipient." Because I couldn't not.

John knows it's unprofessional to check his mobile while he's with a patient. He shouldn't even have the bloody thing with him. But he does have it, and he does check it. Discreetly, of course.

Most of the time, Sherlock's texts are requests directly resulting from his laziness -- well, John calls it laziness, Sherlock calls it efficiency. "The more time I spend not thinking about a case, the longer it takes me to solve it," he said once, when John complained.

But then last month, Sherlock might have drowned in a vat of custard if John hadn't looked at his phone while waiting for Mrs Prince to finish explaining why she thought her pet lorikeet was foretelling the end of the world, seen Sherlock's text, and ran from the room just as Mrs Prince said, "--and his droppings formed the shape of a pentagram."

And last week, Sherlock texted John from the boot of a car.

So John keeps his phone on silent in his front pocket, where he'll be sure to feel it when it buzzes.

\---

"Everything okay, doctor?"

John blinks and looks up at his patient. He's forgotten her name. Shirley? Silvia? Jane? Something that starts with... some letter of the alphabet.

He looks down at his phone again. It's still there. A picture of an erect cock.

A penis. On his phone. From Sherlock.

"Yes, sorry, I've just had some, uh, unexpected news. I'll... be right back." John retreats to the empty corridor outside the examination room and leans on the wall. What the hell is he supposed to do with this? Did Sherlock even mean to send it to him? Did he mean to send it to someone else?

He's not sure which possibility is more alarming.

John looks at his phone again. There doesn't seem to be any sort of message, just a cock. What kind of message could there be anyway? Other than "someone is horny and wants to fuck--"

Oh God. That can't be it. Can it?

John can feel his heart pounding. Why is he nervous? He swallows and flexes his hand.

Sherlock is probably sitting at home, smirking, waiting for John to come to the wrong conclusion so he can say, "The man is uncircumcised, and has dark hair, clearly he recently murdered his lawyer, then dressed as a clown and chased pigeons in Trafalgar Square." Only it wouldn't be that, it would be something so brilliant and obvious and John would wonder how he'd missed it.

John is staring at the ceiling when his phone buzzes again.

 _Are you hard yet? -SH_

He reads the message, and suddenly the correct answer is "yes, very much so".

 _What the hell, Sherlock?_ , he sends back, because if Sherlock has figured out a way to control John's penis via subliminal text messages, John is going to be -- well intrigued actually, but also angry, because it's his bloody cock and he's--

 _I assumed the direct approach was best with you. Was I mistaken? -SH_

For a second, John thinks he might come in his pants. _What did you do? How are you doing this?_ he types, hands shaking.

It's not that it feels bad -- it feels really, really good. John is so aroused now that he has the urge to turn around and hump the wall. But Sherlock can't have this kind of control over him. Sherlock shouldn't even be trusted to have a pet fish, let alone a pet cock.

 _I have no idea what you're talking about. -SH_

Oh.

Sometimes, when Sherlock says that, John doesn't believe him.

This time, though, he does. He has learned a thing or two from being Sherlock's flatmate, after all. Which is more likely: that Sherlock has remote control over John's cock, or that John is turned on by the thought that Sherlock wants him? That John wants Sherlock?

"Obvious," he says, just as one of the nurses walks by. John smiles feebly at her. "Bad news from home," he says. She raises one eyebrow and hurries away. Perhaps that wasn't a convincing explanation for the massive erection.

 _I'm so hard I can barely walk straight,_ John texts as he hurries toward the waiting room.

He gestures with his phone at Sarah as he runs through. She rolls her eyes but nods. As John pushes open the door to the street, he hears her say, "Denise, Doctor Watson has had to step out."

His phone buzzes in his pocket. In the cab, he takes it out and reads it.

 _In that case, come home at once. -SH_

 _I'm already on my way._


End file.
